Captain Sparrow and the Falcon
by Stutley Constable
Summary: PotC X Maltese Falcon. Pre-Movie. Cpt. Sparrow and First Mate Barbossa are forced to recover a rare statue. Now it's a race against time and death itself. Can the pirates defeat their enemies and save their own necks? Epilogue added.
1. Chapter 1

**Legal Note:** I do not own any of the characters associated with Pirates of the Caribbean or the Maltese Falcon. I do not have any legal right to use them or any other proprietary words originating from these movies or books. This story was done just for the fun of it. Not for profit. If you like it please tell me. If you don't like it please tell me why with particulars but not excessive detail. Any one who wants to rip on my style or me just to make them self feel better is really only polishing their wand and their statements will receive the due amount of interest (i.e. NONE). And finally before any one brings it up: I do know my punctuation stinks. I just don't care.

**Summary:** PotC/Maltese Falcon cross over. Pre- Movie. Captain Sparrow and First Mate Barbossa are forced to recover a certain rare statue.

**Captain Sparrow and the Falcon**

**Chapter 1: Of Fat Men and Falcons**

Captain Jack Sparrow was thinking how ironic life could be. One minute you're contemplating a night raid on a small port town on a small island in the Mediterranean Sea and the next you're being held prisoner in your own cabin. This of course was not his only thought but it had suddenly jumped from the crowd to stick its tongue out at him. His mind turned back to the scene in front of him as a fat man in a fine woven frock coat entered the cabin and took Jack's chair behind the large table normally used as a desk.

"What do you know, sir, about the Order of the hospital of St. John of Jerusalem, also called the Sovereign Military Hospitaller Order of St. John of Jerusalem of Rhodes and of Malta and other things?" the fat man asked without preamble as he looked over Jack and his first mate Hector Barbossa. He produced three goblets from a pocket and a small bottle of port wine.

"I know they fought the Arabs," Jack said in a nonchalant, lazy drawl. Truth was that the subject interested him very little. But since he was surrounded by a lot of men with pistols Jack thought it best to be polite.

"They were crusaders," Barbossa put in. His tone clearly implying something about Jack's knowledge of history. "They fought at Acre in Galilee. Possessed the island of Rhodes for a time."

"Very good." The fat man's voice sounded approving as he carefully poured even measures into each goblet. "In 1539 these Crusading Knights persuaded the Emperor Charles V to give them the Island of Malta. The very island some ten miles north of us now. Charles made but one condition. They were to pay him, each year on All Souls Day, the tribute of a falcon in acknowledgment that Malta was still under Spain. They were to send this payment to his viceroy in Sicily. Do you follow me?"

The prisoners glanced at each other and nodded. One of the guards was motioned to give two of the goblets to the prisoners. They accepted them. Barbossa sniffed his but neither drank.

"Have you any conception of the extreme wealth of the order at that time?" The fat man got out a pipe and filled it. He lit it from the candle burning on the table and sat back making the chair creek under him. "They were rolling in wealth, sir. For years they had taken from the East only God knows what spoils of gems, precious metals, silks, ivories, sir. The wealth of a thousand plundered Muslim princes. We all know that the Holy Wars to them were largely a matter of loot. The order was founded on charity but the knights wanted wealth, sir. And they got it."

In spite of the drawn pistols and naked blades Jack was growing interested.

"The knights were profoundly grateful to the Emperor Charles for his generosity toward them. They hit upon the happy thought of sending him for the first year's tribute not an insignificant live bird but a golden falcon encrusted from head to feet with the finest gems in their coffers." A smile creased the face of the fat man. "They sent this foot-high jeweled bird to Charles, who was then in Spain. They sent it in a galley commanded by a member of the Order. It never reached Spain. A famous admiral of buccaneers took the knight's galley and the bird. In 1713 it turned up in Sicily. After that it disappeared again. No one knew where it had got to."

"So what's this got to do with us?" Jack asked calmly. "We're just honest merchants."

"Hardly, sir." The fat man's smile broadened. An indulgent look came over his face as though he were talking to a favored son. "You are Captain Sparrow the Pirate Lord of the Caribbean. Your associate there is Captain Barbossa. A Pirate Lord in his own right. I believe it's the Caspian Sea is it not?"

Barbossa's yellowed eyes narrowed and he nodded.

"You have sense, sir," the fat man said to Barbossa. "So that introductions can be at least somewhat proper. Let me introduce myself. I am Sir Kaspar Sydney. A member of the Order."

"All right." Jack's eyes had narrowed too. He didn't like the situation and the politeness he knew masked something far more than just a history lesson. "Now we know each other. Proper introductions and all. You're not here as a school master, Sir Kaspar. What is it you want?"

"By God, sir, you're the man for me!" Sir Kaspar chuckled. "I like a man who speaks plainly. I truly do. Here's to plain speech, gentlemen." Sir Kaspar raised his goblet and waited for the two pirates to join him in the gesture. All three sipped. The port was quite good. Jack and Hector both took a second slightly larger swallow.

"Well, Cpt. Sparrow, you ask what I want. What do I want? Simply this: I want the falcon. Oh I know you haven't got it. But I also know who does."

"Beggin' your pardon, Sir Kaspar." Barbossa ignored the irritated look Jack shot at him. "If ye know who's got it why come to us? Why board our ship?"

"By God. Another plain speaker. No wonder the two of you signed articles. But to answer your question; I need agents, Cpt. Barbossa. I must be circumspect in this matter," Sir Kaspar said puffing out a cloud of smoke and taking another drink from his goblet. He smiled as unconsciously they did the same. "I want the Falcon but I do not want anyone to know I have it when you bring it to me. I'd be faced with too many problems. Not the least of which would be keeping it. There are others in the Order who would be far too interested in what I want it for. I do not wish them to be involved, sir."

"When we bring it to you?" Jack's mind was racing. Thoughts of the jewel incrusted statue danced enticingly before his mind's eye. Sir Kaspar nodded in reply.

"Why, Sir Kaspar, would we bring it to you once we've got it?" Barbossa asked. His thoughts were running the same course as Jack's.

"Ah. A very judicious question. Why indeed? Because, captain, like all men the two of you want to live." Sir Kaspar drew on his pipe with narrowed eyes. The folds of his cheeks rising to nearly hide them as he smiled a not so comforting smile.

"Meaning you'll kill us if we don't agree to fetch this falcon for you." Jack scanned the guards and gaged his chances of making it out of the cabin. They weren't good.

"As to that. I know that you could easily agree to the bargain and then simply betray me. Even with the men and ships at my disposal you could slip through any cordon I might throw up. But I don't need to do that. I have a far better guarantee than your word." Sir Kaspar drained his goblet and resumed puffing on his pipe. A sword suddenly clattered to the deck and the two pirates turned to see one of the guards clasp his chest. The man's lips were turning blue and he was going weak at the knees. Suddenly he collapsed in a fit of kicks and jerks. Froth came from his mouth and he voided his bowels filling the cabin with a foul sewer stink. When the contractions had stilled Sir Kaspar signed two of his men to take the body away. Jack and Barbossa turned questioning looks on the knight.

"Poison, gentlemen," Sir Kaspar explained. "I discovered he was working for a competitor. Earlier this evening I gave him a slightly larger dose than I just gave you. By God, I couldn't have timed it any better if I'd tried!"

The pirates in twin motions looked into their nearly empty goblets and then back at the smiling knight. Their expressions a mix of fear, revulsion and fury.

"You wont die just now," Sir Kaspar said smoothly. A wintery look had come over him. "It will take no less than seven days for the dose I administered to you. No more than ten."

"Ye've had the same as us," Barbossa said with a not entirely firm tone.

"Antidote. I have one. I will provide you with the same once you have placed the falcon in my hands." Sir Kaspar puffed on his pipe again. The pirates were silent. All thoughts of wealth had gone from their heads. "I give you my word, gentlemen, that if you succeed and I have the falcon you will not die. I am a man of my word."

"And we should trust the man that poisoned us? Why?" Barbossa spat.

"Because, sir, you have nothing at all to lose." Sir Kaspar turned that indulgent look on them again. "I'll sweeten the pot for you. Should you return in time with the falcon I will not only give you the antidote but pay you its weight in Spanish doubloons. Not a trifle, gentlemen."

"And where is the falcon now?" Jack asked. New thoughts were tangling with thoughts of poison.

"In a place that I believe Cpt. Barbossa is at least passingly familiar with." A gleam shone in the fat knight's eyes as he said this. "Tripoli. The house of the corsair known as Alamgir the Merciless."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: The Monk**

"What thoughts have you on this predicament, Hector?" Jack asked his first mate as they watched the ships of the Hospitaler's sail into the night.

"We've no good choices, cap'n." Barbossa turned to Jack with a meaningful look. "If he's tellin' the truth."

"Why's he want the bird?" Wheels were clicking in Jack's mind. There were always more reasons than were given in a thing like this.

"As I see it, cap'n, "Why" isn't our concern." Barbossa looked back out to the night shrouded sea. "He wants it enough to come out here and find us. Enough to risk a fight. Enough to risk the wrath of two pirate lords."

"Aye. All that's true." Jack glanced at Barbossa. "But there are others involved. Poison's not the only thing that could kill us in the next week. What do you know about this Order he's part of?"

"They were crusaders six-hundred year ago. Ever since then they've fought the Muslims and more recently they've fought the pirates of these waters." Barbossa scratched his beard. "I know a man that might be able to help in more ways than one."

"It'll take at least a day to get to Tripoli. With no more than seven to get the job done I don't think we have the time to visit with any old friends."

"Aye, cap'n. But this one's on our way." Barbossa went to the compass and checked their heading. "And besides, Jack, he might be able to solve our little problem too."

"On our way eh?" Jack considered a moment. "All right, Hector. We'll call on this old friend of yours. But tell me somethin'. How do you know this Alamgir the whats-it?"

"Alamgir the Merciless. Aye. I know him." Barbossa spit over the rail to show his feelings. "He and I sailed together a few year ago. He's dangerous, Jack. Some say he's mad. Has a big stone fort for a house. Last I heard of him he had two other captains sailin' under his colors."

"Why'd you part ways as it were?"

"He opened up a broadside on me while we were in the middle of fight with the Knights. Them fellas that just left maybe," Barbossa said with a half smile. "He thought I was sportin' with one of his wives."

"Hector?" Jacks eyes danced and his gold teeth gleamed in the moonlight. "Were you?"

"No. I wouldn't have nothin' to do with her." Barbossa smiled back. "It was another one I was beddin'."

"I'm proud of you, Hector," Jack said warmly. "But time is wasting. Can't dilly dally here all night reminiscing over past loves. Set our course if you would and lets get under sail."

The Pearl's sails were set and caught the night wind. Over the Mediterranean they sped. By morning they had come in sight of a speck of an island that, as Barbossa had promised, was on their way to Tripoli. They let the wind out of their sails and dropped anchor just off the narrow, rocky beach. Jack and Hector were rowed ashore in the long boat and instructing their men to stay on the beach they started a weary climb up a roughly cut stair in the face of the cliff. At the top they found goats and a young boy. Seeing them the lad sprinted like an antelope across the scrubby pasture toward a group of low stone buildings surrounded by olive trees in the distance.

"I suspect we'll be welcomed warmly." Barbossa's tone put the lie to his words.

There was no sign of the young shepherd when the two pirates arrived at the buildings. In fact there was no sign of anyone. There were a dozen small houses all tolled. All had their doors shut.

"This be the one we want," Barbossa said as he went to the nearest house.

"How do you know?" Jack asked following him. For answer Barbossa pointed to a black cross painted above the door.

"It's unlocked," A man's voice called from within when they knocked. Barbossa pulled on the leather strap to release the latch and swung the door open. In the middle of the room by a table cluttered with pots and dishes and a variety of other things stood a stoop shouldered man in rough black and white robes. He had his back to them but as he turned, in his hands was a leveled blunderbuss.

"Thomas? I heard ye were a man o' peace now," Barbossa said in a chiding voice.

"Aye. But I am no fool," The robed man said. "It's been some time since I saw you last, Hector."

"It has. Six year I think."

"Who's this?" Thomas indicted Jack with his chin.

"Thomas, I present to ye Cpt Jack Sparrow. Master of the Black Pearl," Barbossa said with a flourish of his hand. Jack gave a very brief bow keeping his eyes on the blunderbuss.

"It's Brother Thomas now," The monk said mildly. "What brings you? Stomachache? Bloody flux?"

"Poison."

"I don't make poisons, Hector," Brother Thomas said scornfully. "I study the healing arts now."

"We're the ones who've been poisoned, Thomas," Barbossa said with a frown.

"Have you now?" The monk's eyes shifted as he considered this. "Who did you make angry?"

"It was by someone we don't actually know in fact," put in Jack, not liking to be left out of a conversation."A knight. One Sir Kaspar Sydney."

"My! You don't get into trouble by halves do you?" Brother Thomas looked back and forth between the pirates. "You want an antidote I'm sure."

"An antidote and some information," Barbossa proceeded to tell Brother Thomas all that had transpired aboard the Black Pearl in the night.

"Seven to ten days?" Thomas stared at them. "The man collapsed in a fit you say?"

"Aye. A fit and then he voided his bowels," Barbossa sneered at Jack as he saw his captain grimace at the memory of the man's death.

"Foamed at the mouth, voided his bowels, lips were blue. A number of poisons could cause any or all of those results." Finally Thomas slung the blunderbuss up and rested the butt in the crook of his arm so that the barrel was pointed to the rafters of the small room. "Kaspar was always a clever bastard."

"You know him then?" Jack said with a touch of surprise.

"Oh Kaspar and I go back many years." Brother Thomas walked around to the far side of the table and laid the weapon down next to a stack of books. "He was there the day I was wounded. I wasn't always a monk, Cpt. Sparrow. Once I owned a large house

with servants and men at my command. But the Lord helped me to see the error of my ways." At those words Thomas made the sign of the cross.

"How'd you end up here?" Jack wanted to know.

"Oh that!" The monk laughed. "As I said. I was wounded. I thought I would die. You know coming close to death the way I did can shift your priorities around. I realized that I had not been a very good man. I had been a good soldier and sailor but not a good man. I vowed that if I lived I would amend my ways. Instead of harming others and looking after only myself I would sell all of my worldly possessions and use those funds to help the needy and comfort the bereft. In His mercy God accepted my vow and so I am here. These people are at the heart of a conflict without end, captain. Many times in the past corsairs or men from the Order have come here to steal away what little these people have. Since I came to them those occasions have been far fewer and with less destruction when they do come. Praise be to God."

"Thomas, I don't mean to be pressing of ye but we were poisoned," Barbossa cut in before Jack could say any more.

"I'm afraid that there is really nothing I can do." Thomas lifted a few of the books out of the way and began turning pages in the one that had been uncovered.

"Nothing?" the pirates asked in unison.

"We don't know the poison and we aren't sure how much you actually ingested." Thomas turned another page. "Anything I give you could do more harm than good. It might go so far as to cause your death. I'm afraid the best advice I can offer is to get the falcon for Sir Kaspar. Though you must forgive me. I hope you fail."

"You what?" Jack was perplexed.

"Not because of what would happen to you. No. Not that." Thomas jabbed a finger at something on the page he had been reading. "Found it. Yes. As I feared. Kaspar didn't by chance tell you why he wants the falcon did he?"

"It's made of gold," Barbossa said. "Seems reason enough."

"For you or me. Well me of six years ago." Thomas smiled at them. "The falcon is not just a pretty statue with a lot of shinny gems on it. It's got one gem in particular. Mounted in the center of its chest. The gem isn't all that big. But according to what I have here it is supposed to be from a certain Muslim prince's treasury. Aalem Ahmad centuries ago had a spell placed on the gem so that whoever he gave the gem too would listen to him. He was able to influence people this way. Eventually the gem was taken from him by the Hospitlers. To make a long story short they learned what the gem could do and waited for an opportunity to put it to use. That's where the falcon comes in. They were going to use it to influence Charles V. Since they lost it though their influence waned until the order is what you yourselves have witnessed."

"Sir Kaspar, I think has some use for the gem," Jack said almost admiring the subtlety.

"Damned nonsense!" Barbossa barked. "Fairy stories is all. Sir Kaspar can't be belivin' in such."

"He may," The monk said quietly. "In any event. This doesn't change what you must do."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Sails and Charts**

Jack and Barbossa were silent and brooding on the short trip back to the Pearl. What hope they had had for a remedy to their problems was gone. Brother Thomas had not been able to recommend anything to help. When they climbed to the deck they were greeted by the bosun, Mr. Leech.

"Cpt. Jack, the lookout says there is a sail on the horizon," The bosun's dark face showed concern.

"A sail?" Jack squinted in the direction Leech was pointing but saw nothing. Was it just the wind on Jack's neck or was there more to it than an innocent sail? Suspicion crept into his voice. "Hardly a surprise in these waters."

"It has been cruising hull down at the edge of sight, captain," Leech said in a voice that seemed to reflect the unease of his captain.

"Best we were under way, captain. Don't you think?" Barbossa prompted from over Jack's shoulder.

"As soon as the boat's hoisted and stowed, Mr. Barbossa, set sail and resume our course for Tripoli." Jack hid his irritation with a light tone. He reflected briefly that having another captain as your first mate had its draw backs. Jack took a few steps aft then turned to look once more to the horizon and the unseen sail. "I'll be in my cabin if I'm needed."

An hour later Barbossa entered Jack's cabin in answer to his summons. On the big table Jack had laid out several charts and a map of the coast around Tripoli they'd taken from a merchant ship a few weeks back. Barbossa saw several marks made on the map in pencil.

"Ah, Hector. Good timing," Jack said from his chair. "We need to plan how we're going to do this and I think I've got about as far as I can without you."

"What is it ye're thinking, Jack?" Barbossa crossed the room to look more closely at the map.

"The best I can make out is that there is a sandy spot just west of the port here." Jack's finger went to the spot. "I believe if we try to enter the port there's likely to be trouble."

"Aye. They don't care for uninvited guests like us," Barbossa agreed. "So ye're thinking of marching across country to get there?"

"There's a road marked here but you know how those things go. Might be nothing but a dirt path." Jack slid his finger over the map toward Tripoli. "You've been there before, Hector. I haven't. So what do you think would be our best bet?"

"Landin' where ye marked here should do fine. Especially if we do it at night. They aren't likely to notice the Pearl if we douse the lights." Barbossa scratched his chin. "Entering the city should be easy enough. No war at the moment so they shouldn't be too worried about strangers. Best if we dress like the locals though."

"That'd be simple enough. What about getting to this house you told me about?"

"Fortunately for us it's not far from the water. Easy enough to find." Barbossa looked at Jack a moment. "Gettin' in wont be easy, Jack. Alamgir is a rank bastard but he's no fool. He put a wall up around his place ten feet high. Has guards and everything laid out like a real prince's palace."

"We have to get inside," Jack persisted. "You've been there. Do you know a way in?"

"I lived there for a time, Jack. As best I recall there's a dry ditch that runs under the wall to feed a cistern in the rainy season. It's blocked with iron bars but we could get through. We'd need to be quiet."

"Good. What about the bird though. Any idea where he'd be keeping that?"

"He's got vaults under the main house. Probably down there but where I couldn't guess." A look came into Barbossa's eyes then.

"What is it?" Jack asked. "You've thought of something."

"Well, do ye think we've got time to visit with another old friend?" Barbossa's smile was toothy and lascivious.

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: The House of Alamgir**

The night wind off of the land had faded but the smell of the arid earth mingled with the salt scent of the Mediterranean in a not unpleasant manner. Behind them the Pearl was nearly invisible in the darkness. It appeared as little more than a shadow among the darker shadows of the sea. By the time the moon rose she would be a mile out and little more than a ghost in the sea mist.

Jack looked over his shoulder at her one last time before they turned from the rocky shore and headed up the slope toward the road marked on his map. He, Hector and two of their men had been rowed ashore in the longboat and landed on the coast of Tripoli a couple of miles west of the city. It was a surprise to him when they found scrubby grass and low bushes instead of dust and sand. The earth here was not so inhospitable as he'd imagined. Quietly they made their way by starlight to the narrow track and turned east. Dressed in robes and head wraps they would blend well in the peopled quarters of the land.

In the dark it took nearly an hour to reach the city gate and their first challenge. The armed guards there made them halt. They wanted to know what four strangers were doing in the middle of the night on this road. Aaftab Aanetra, one of the men Jack had insisted on bringing, answered that they were seamen come to join the crew of his cousin's ship. This was not exactly a lie because Aaftab's cousin really was a captain here. He asked the guards to please let them pass as they were already late and hoped that the ship had not yet sailed. The guard captain inspected them by the light of a torch. He passed over the two crewmen with little more than a glance at their weapons. Barbossa he eyed warily but gave a curt nod. He came up short when he looked at Jack. He said something in Arabic and frowned when Jack only smiled.

"This man does not speak our tongue," the guard captain said. "He is an infidel?"

"He was," Aaftab replied. "He is learning the faith to save his life. He is my slave. We took him from a ship wrecked on the rocks. He will learn at sea."

"You allow a slave to bear arms?" the guard captain was mistrustful.

"Surely, brother, that is my concern. If he is treacherous I will kill him myself." Aaftab moved casually away from Jack and did not look at him.

Sweat trickled down Jack's back as he tried to look not guilty. He had thought to go for his innocent look but that wouldn't do. His not guilty look was always better in this kind of situation. It said that yes he was a rascal but no, he was not up to anything just now. The guard captain squinted at him again and spoke over his shoulder to Aaftab. Jack understood none of what was said between them. They argued back and forth to the point where the guards began to finger their weapons. Finally the guard captain spit on the ground at Jack's feet and swung his arm in a gesture indicating that the pirates should move on through the gate. They passed through the thick old wall and into a narrow street that stank of animal droppings and other things of less identifiable origin. The smell of a city.

"What was that about?" Jack demanded of Aaftab.

"He didn't like it that a slave was armed."

"And?" Jack pressed.

"He wanted to kill you." Aaftab smiled at his captain. "I told him he could if he would pay me three goats and a camel."

"He didn't have the animals?" Barbossa asked from behind.

"No." Aaftab's smile broadened. "He said the captain wasn't worth it."

Jack frowned and looked over his shoulder to find Barbossa smiling at him. "What?"

"Nothing, Jack." Barbossa continued to smile smugly. "Bear left at the next street. We need to make our way toward the docks."

They went through streets and alleys. They passed through patches of light. There were market stalls closed for the night. As they drew nearer the harbor they began passing smithy's and carpenter's shops and the homes of sail makers. Finally they came to a broad avenue and Barbossa turned down this with the stride of a man who had passed this way many times.

"Alamgir's house isn't far now," Barbossa said in a low tone even though they were the only ones in sight. "He won't be awake this time of night I think. His guards weren't the best as I remember but we should still be careful."

"You're sure about this grate?" Jack asked.

"Aye. It's small and in the back corner of the gardens." Barbossa nodded. "We just need to cross the garden without being seen and get to the second floor. I know the window."

"As long as he hasn't changed things around since you were here last." This was the riskiest part of the plan as far as Jack could see. What if the household had been shuffled around? What then? They couldn't go storming every room and demanding to know where the damn bird was being kept. Jack crossed his fingers and hoped their luck would hold.

They found the small grate where Barbossa had said it would be. A stone walled ditch about three feet deep lead straight to it and continued into a small garden on the other side of the curtain wall that surrounded the house and its compound. From under their robes the four men produced pry bars. They wrapped these in rags and wedged them between the iron bars of the grate. As quietly as they could the pirates heaved on the pry bars. With a few muffled grunts they eventually got one of the grating bars to bend. It creaked in the stones and suddenly gave way. Jack caught it just before it would have clattered to the floor of the ditch. In silence they all listened for anything that might betray the approach of a guard. They waited for a call of alarm but nothing happened.

With a nod Barbossa turned sideways and squeezed through the narrow gap. Jack followed him and then came the two sailors. They emerged into a small but beautiful garden of lush green plants and exotic flowers. It was enclosed on three sides by the walls of the house and on the fourth by the curtain wall they'd just come through. Crouching low they passed on between the beds of plants to the farther wall and stopped under a balcony. Barbossa smiled wistfully up at the darkened window.

"This is it then?" Jack whispered.

"I remember it well." The tone of Barbossa's voice was different from any Jack had ever heard him use before. "Watch where I go and follow me. I'll wait on the balcony. We'll go in together."

Jack frowned with a slight irritation at being given an order by his first mate but he nodded. This was no time for a dispute about who was captain. Hector stood to his full height and reached up to grasp a protruding ornament. He hauled himself up bodily and found a foot hold then reach up again. It took only a few such movements and he was over the railing of the balcony and pressing back into the shadow cast by the moon. Jack followed him up and soon they were both looking carefully into the darkness beyond a bamboo screen. From a fold in his robe Barbossa drew a long bladed dagger and slipped it between the doors in the middle of the screen. A latch moved and the screen opened noiselessly.

As quiet as church mice the two men slunk down a large passage. There were no lights in the passage itself but from the far end a faint glow emanated from the head of a stair. Doors lead off the passage on either side and Barbossa stopped at one about a third of the way to the stairs. He tested the latch and found it was secured. Again he reached into his robe and produced a large key. He pushed it quietly into the lock and gently turned it. The latch moved and they slipped inside. Here there was soft light given off by small lamps hung from the ceiling by slim chains. Silk drapes were hung from rods on the walls and fine furniture adorned the room. In a chair next to another door slept a large dark skinned man with a drawn sword resting across his knees. Jack raised an eyebrow at Barbossa but the older pirated was focussed on the guard. Scowling he moved forward and with a swift motion he struck the guard a hard blow on the nape of his neck with the pommel of his dagger. The man tumbled to the carpeted floor and lay still.

"I thought they didn't allow men in this part of the house," Jack whispered harshly.

"They don't, Jack." Barbossa sheathed his dagger and knelt next to the prostrate guard feeling the man's pulse. "This one's a eunuch."

Jack's brows shot up. "Might be kinder to kill 'im."

"Aye. But I've heard they have lovely singing voices." Barbossa smiled like a wolf. He stood and went to the door. This latch moved easily when he tried it and they stepped inside. On a bed draped with silks and fine linen lay the form of a woman. From the slender shape of her Jack thought she was young and feared they'd gotten the wrong room until Barbossa moved closer and drew back the curtain by her head. Almost reluctantly the pirate leaned in and whispered in her ear.

"'Umniya," he breathed softly. "It's Hector. 'Umniya, wake up love."

"Hector?" the woman stirred uncertainly and rolled to see Barbossa close to her. She smiled in recognition and raised her hand to his cheek. "Hector? What are you doing here?"

"I've come to ask a favor, love," Barbossa said still softly.

"Favor?" 'Umniya sat up revealing a lovely face framed by sleep tousled black hair. "How did you get here? Alamgir would kill you on sight."

"It's a bit of a long story." Barbossa took the woman's hand in his and kissed the back of it. "I wish we had time to tell you all of it."

"We?" 'Umniya's eyes passed around the room until they rested on Jack. "Who is this?"

"My captain. Name's Jack sparrow." Barbossa looked to Jack. "We've been poisoned."

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: Ill Luck and Bad News**

"Poisoned?" 'Umniya asked sleepily bewildered. "How? Why are you here?"

"A man wanted to be sure we did what he wants. So he poisoned us and now we're 'ere doin' what he wants so that he'll give us the antidote so that we can go on and do what we want," Jack explained in a rush. He earned a reproachful look from Barbossa and a perplexed one from 'Umniya.

"What the captain means is that we have to get something that Alamgir has," Barbossa explained. "It's a jeweled, golden statue of a falcon about yeah tall." Barbossa held his hands about a foot apart.

"The falcon?" 'Umniya asked. "He doesn't have it anymore."

"What?" the pirates asked in unison.

"He gave it to a man in exchange for new French cannons for his ship," the woman said.

"What man?" Barbossa asked.

"He's a merchant. Wealthy. He owns a small estate half a days ride from the city to the south." 'Umniya paused in thought. "I think his name is Tamir Wahib."

"A day's travel just to get there and back," Jack grumbled.

"Aye," Barbossa agreed. "Still. It leaves us four days to get back to Sir Kaspar."

"But we don't know anything about this bugger's estate." Jack found a chair and slumped into it. "We'll have to spend some time just looking for a way in and then hunting around."

"And there's nothing to say that he won't have sold the damned thing or traded it." Barbossa continued the line of thought.

"I don't think he would have traded it," 'Umniya said. "He's been wanting it for at least a year. Alamgir made a deal with him for the cannons and it has taken Tamir this long to collect them."

Jack's eyes slid to the woman. "A year you say?"

"Yes," She replied.

"Hector," said Jack. "Could be that someone else wanted the falcon. Maybe that's how our knight found out about the bird."

"It might explain why he gave us so little time to get the thing back to him." Barbossa nodded. "This Tamir might be sending it off to one of Sir Kaspar's rivals."

"Which means we need to act fast," said Jack and then spun as a noise from the outer room alerted him to danger. 'Umniya began screaming in Arabic as she scrambled to the far side of the bed. Jack spun to face her in confusion and Barbossa stood staring at her with his hand on his sword hilt. The door to the bedchamber was kicked open and big men with muskets leveled entered the room. The pirates froze where they stood.

* * *

"Well this is a fine mess," Jack grumbled. They had been taken from 'Umniya's room and dragged down to the vaults below the house to await Alamgir's return. Their weapons were gone and now they were locked inside a cell that stank of old human waste and rotting straw.

"I never thought the girl would betray us," Barbossa growled.

"Aye." Jack spat into the corner. "She's lookin' out for herself. Can't blame the lass for that really."

"What do we do now, captain?" Aaftab Aanetra asked from his spot against the wall.

"What happened to the other man?" Barbossa asked.

"Omar?" Aaftab asked. "They killed him. Then they put a gun to my head."

"And you told them where we were." Jack gave the Arab a hard look.

"No, captain!" Aaftab said vehemently. "They didn't even ask me. They just looked up at the window and a couple of them ran off. The others dragged me down here. They brought you a while later."

"Hey!" came a voice from a cell across the narrow hall. "You're white men."

"For all the good it'll do us. Yeah," Jack replied. "Who're you?"

"Me? I'm Pintel. Me mate's Ragetti." Jack could see a vague shadow of a man behind the bars of the cell. "Who are you?"

"Captain Jack Sparrow."

"Captain? What ship?" There was a note of distrust in the man's voice.

"The Black Pearl, mate." Jack watched the man turn to whisper something over his shoulder.

"Are you going to escape?" Pintel asked after a moment.

"Naturally," said Jack. "We only stayed here this long to make the guards relax and get over confident."

"Really?" There was surprise in Pintel's voice this time.

Jack rolled his eyes and looked to Barbossa. Barbossa shook his head and growled something under his breath.

"How long you been here mate?" Jack asked finally.

"Not exactly sure." Pintel's voice came back.

"I fink i's been two weeks maybe." This voice came from the darker shadows of the cell. It sounded like a young man's voice. "We been diggin'. Got a stone out the wall this mo'nin'."

"An' how long did that take ye?" Barbossa asked.

"Five days I fink," Ragetti's voice answered. "But we got another one what's loose."

"Oh good," Jack said in a tone that was flat and dry. "Another year or two and you'll be free."

"See!" Ragetti said sounding pleased. "I tol' you it wasn't a waste o' time."

Just then the sound of footsteps came from the direction of the stairs that lead up to the main house. The light of a lantern swayed as someone approached. Wrapped in veils and accompanied by the big eunuch Barbossa had clubbed 'Umniya came around the corner. All eyes went to her.

"I have to get you out of here," she said as she produced a key. "Alamgir's ship has come into the harbor. He will be here any minute."

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: Flowers and Blood**

"Alamgir is back?" Barbossa asked. It was inane. He knew it but asked anyway.

"Yes," 'Umniya replied while she fit the key into the lock. "One of his men came to ready the household. He will be here very soon."

The lock squeaked as the key turned and then the door was open. Jack followed Barbossa out but before they could start down the hall Jack stopped.

"Give me that key, lass," Jack demanded.

"Why?" the woman asked in turn but she handed him the key. For answer Jack went to the other cell. When the door opened two very scruffy men stepped into the light of the lanterns. One was short and stocky while the other was of a height with Jack and very lean. They began babbling their thanks instantly.

"Save that for when we get clear of this place," Barbossa snapped. Ignoring Jack's scowl he went on. "Follow us and don't lag or we'll be leavin' ye."

"Hector, remember your place." Jack's voice was soft but carried a hint of menace. "Let's get going."

'Umniya and her eunuch lead them back to the stairs and they made their way to the ground floor of the house. In a small room across from the head of the stair they found their weapons and belts. The party then followed a long, stone floored hall to an outer door. But as they reached it the door swung open to reveal four men in the customary dress of the corsairs. Taking advantage of their surprise Barbossa whipped out his blade and attacked. One Arab went down in his first rush but the others backed into the small court yard and drew their own weapons. The fight was on. Barbossa held his own against the three and even pushed them back to allow Jack and the others out of the door. The ring of steel echoed from the stone walls and lantern light flashed from the blades. Men screamed their battle cries and moaned in the throws of death. Only a moment had passed before the three remaining Arabs were laying on the cobbles in widening pools of their own blood.

"Quick now!" Jack said urgently. "They'll have heard that."

'Umniya nodded once, her eyes wide above the veil over her face. She turned toward a small gate and the men followed with blades bare. The gate let into the garden where the pirates had entered. Now though lanterns lit the paths. In the middle of the garden was a small group all staring at the gate as the pirates pushed it open.

"Barbossa!" yelled a swarthy man at the center of the group. "I'll castrate you and let the dogs tear out your entrails."

"Alamgir," Barbossa growled back. "Ye've not got enough arse in yer britches to kill me."

Without thought the two men charged across the garden with hate in their eyes and murder in their hearts. Their blades met as the rest of the pirates caught up to Hector and met Alamgir's men in a rush. Jack skewered one and turned immediately to the next. Even in the thick of the fight Jack marveled at Barbossa's skill. Jack himself was no mean swordsman but the flash of Barbossa's blade was like the flicker of a dragonfly's wing. Only a blur. Alamgir was bleeding from a half dozen cuts already but there was no backing down. Aaftab fought as fiercely as Jack and between them, the eunuch and the two men they'd freed, the other Arabs were pushed back. Some lay in flower beds either moaning in pain or laying all too still. Jack took a cut on his arm but dealt a killing stroke in return. Aaftab lunged in and missed but he was saved by the lean man called Ragetti who split the Arab's skull with a stroke from the tulwar he'd taken from one of the guards in the courtyard. No good deed goes unpunished however. Ragetti received a slash to his face and began screaming as blood poured from an empty socket. Pintel slammed into the Arab and drove him to the stones where Pintel hacked down on him three times in a rage. As the last of Alamgir's men fell Barbossa hacked off the Arab's thumb causing the corsair's sword to clatter to the stones. Alamgir screamed. Not in pain but in rage. He threw himself at Barbossa with bared teeth but Hector turned his point into the corsair's breast and ran him through to the hilt. Still glaring, Alamgir sank slowly to the garden path. His blood black on Barbossa's blade.

"Come on!" Jack ordered. He made for the corner where the grate was. Pintel lead Ragetti as the thin man thrashed and mewled in pain from his missing eye. 'Umniya went at Barbossa's side and Aaftab and the eunuch brought up the rear. They all made it through the grate but the eunuch had to bend another bar with his bare hands to make the opening wide enough. As he slipped through they could hear more of Alamgir's men come into the garden and more lights appeared from the windows of the house.

"Which way?" demanded Jack.

"Go there." The eunuch pointed across the broad avenue toward a narrow alley shrouded in darkness.

The party made it to the alley and pressed themselves against the walls. Ragetti was still in pain but he was silent as Pintel pressed a rag to the wound.

"There now," Pintel said to the wounded man. "The girls love a man wi' a bat'le wound. You'll see. They won't be able to stay away from you now."

"I'd rather I 'ad me eye," Ragetti whined. No one blamed him.

Jack had cut a bit of cloth from his robe and bound up his arm. "We still have to get the statue."

"Aye," Barbossa replied. He was looking back at the garden wall. A look of satisfaction lay on his face. "I've been wanting to do that for a time now."

"We'll have to get out of the city," Aaftab said. "Which way do we need to go?"

"The lady says the statue is south o' here," said Jack. "I think it would be best if we left by a gate going either east or west. Don't want them to know where we're bound. We can't go back through the one we came in though."

"You think the captain will have gotten the goats and the camel?" Aaftab said with a smile. Jack chuckled.

The party turned their steps away from the house of Alamgir toward a new gate and the road to the falcon.

* * *


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: On the Road**

"Damn it's hot," grumbled Pintel. He was hurting all over. First the fight. Now these damned horses. What more could he endure? Joining up with Captain Jack Sparrow wasn't something he had planned on. Sparrow was a lunatic. Either the best pirate ever born or the worst depending on who told the tale. At least he'd gotten them out of that damned cell. Of course now here they were riding across what might as well have been a bleeding desert. Hot. That didn't really describe it. This was like an oven. Ever since the sun had come up he'd been sweating. The robe and head wrap thing he'd been given were soaked with sweat. At least his nephew was doing better. The boy hadn't asked for this. Hadn't asked to lose his poor eye either. Pintel blamed himself. If they'd left that damned bar in Liverpool when Ragetti had said they should get back to the ship they'd still be in Jolly Old England fishing and trading. Bloody press gang. Bloody British Naval discipline! Bloody Captain Hughes! One day maybe he'd see that sod on the end of his cutlass. No more floggings for Pintel. No more short rations or scurvy. Just this Bloody damned heat.

Just before dawn they'd come on a small encampment outside the city about a mile. The Arab Sparrow had brought with him had talked the men in the camp into allowing them to get closer to the fire and then they had traded some of the gold in their pouches for the robes Pintel and Ragetti wore. They'd also gotten a clean bandage and some kind of poultice for Ragetti's eye. The one called Barbossa had wrangled for a bit over the price for these horses. Just when Pintel had thought there would be another fight the old Arab in charge had broken into a laugh and the deal had been struck. Odd that. Of course Barbossa was a bit odd anyway. He'd been harsh last night in the cells but since the ride had started the man had checked on Ragetti to be sure the lad was doing all right. He'd even been a bit chatty with Pintel. Naturally Barbossa had wanted to know where they'd come from. He seemed to be pleased that the two were deserters from the British Navy. Perhaps that was a mark of good judgment in Barbossa's eyes. No matter. They had to see this through. Whatever this was.

"We are being followed, captain," the Arab said to Sparrow. Aaftab? Was that his name? Funny name.

"Aye," Sparrow said. It sounded like he'd noticed already. If so why'd he not told the rest of the party? "They've been back there for at least an hour, Mr. Aanetra," Sparrow went on.

"Don't pay any attention to them," Barbossa put in. "They'll be watching us to see what we do."

"What do we do if they come lookin' for trouble, cap'in?" Pintel wanted to know.

"Give 'em what they're looking for." Sparrow smiled over his shoulder at Pintel.

Sparrow didn't look all that comfortable on a horse. Apparently he could ride but it didn't seem as though he'd had all that much practice. A sea captain wouldn't. Would he? Barbossa was a different story. He rode like he was pretty well used to it. Wasn't exactly easy in the saddle, you might say. But it was clear that he'd learned at some point. The only one in the group that looked at all natural was the big fella with the lady. Aasim was his name. Funny how all these Arab fellas had names that started with A's. As big as he was Aasim dwarfed the horse he rode. That bloody big sword of his would have been too big for most men to swing properly but he had been handy with it last night. And that metal bar he'd bent. Pintel shook his head just thinking about it. _Don't want them 'ands on me neck._ He thought.

"What do you think they are going to do?" asked the woman. Pintel hadn't heard her name yet. Barbossa seemed to stay close to her. Always put himself between her and everyone else except for the big fella.

"If it was me and I were looking for easy prey I'd let us get around the curve of that hill and then come over the top of it." Sparrow made a small gesture with his hand toward a low rise.

"Aye," Barbossa agreed. "So what are we going to do, captain?"

"Get around that hill. Then see about going over the top of it."

* * *

Sir Walter watched as the pirates rounded the curve of the hill and disappeared. These were seamen and they clearly didn't know much about tactics on land. He smiled as he waved his troop into a canter heading for the slope of the hill. If they swept down onto the pirates from the flank the fight would be over before it got started. Their horses barely slowed as they went up the gentle slope. At the top just when Sir Walter thought everything was going as planned he felt a searing pain in his chest and only then did he hear the pistol shot. All around him his men were dropping from their saddles. The pirates had been waiting for them. Bloody pirates!

"Sir!" screamed Fox. "You're hit."

"Get the men back!" Sir Walter shouted. "Move! Before they close with us!"

There were more pistol shots but Sir Walter and his surviving men were able to get down the hill and out of the line of fire. They'd started with fifteen men and now they were down to nine with three of them wounded. Bloody hell! The knight would not be pleased.

* * *

"Yer a fair shot with that pistol, Master Pintel," Barbossa said eyeing him.

"'Ad some practice, sir." Pintel eyed him back as he helped gather up the pistols and valuables of the men they'd just killed. "Me an' the lad bof'."

"I s'pose his aim will be a little off for a time," Barbossa said laconically shoving a spare pistol through his sash as he turned back down the hill where their horses waited for the men.

They traveled until some time shortly after noon when the big man with the lady told Sparrow they'd come to the place they were looking for. Ahead in the distance was another low rise. They turned from the main track and headed for it. At the foot they dismounted. Pintel was never so glad to be on his feet as now. His knees and arse hurt like never before. The skin on the insides of his thighs was rubbed raw. Barbossa told Ragetti to stay with the lady and the horses while the rest of the party went to the crest of the rise. At the top they were able to see over a narrow plane to a walled compound with a couple of fair sized houses.

"That is it, sir," said Aasim.

"Doesn't look like much," Sparrow said pulling a spyglass from his robes. He wrapped a bit of leather around the big lens to shield it from the sun and extended the tubes to view the compound. "The olive grove off to the east there looks promising."

"Aye," agreed Barbossa. "Should give us enough cover to get close to the wall. If we follow that stream there we can get right to the far end of the grove. Might have sentries walking around at night. We'll need to be careful."

"Looks like there's a couple of guards in front of a door on the smaller building," Sparrow went on. "Could be what we're looking for."

"Could be." Barbossa scratched his chin. "I don't like this, Jack. Something feels wrong."

"I never like this kind of work," Sparrow drawled. "I like the sea. You can tell what's going on there. Only have to get on board the ship and search it. This is bad business."

"How many men do you think this merchant has, captain?" Aaftab asked.

"A place that big would need a number of field workers. I can see a couple dozen in the fields now. Several servants inside I'd bet. Way out here they'd want a dozen guards at least." Sparrow handed the spyglass to Barbossa. "What do you think, Hector?"

"Seems like you be right," Barbossa said after looking through the glass a moment. "Looks like they've got a stable in the yard. Any more buildings, Aasim?"

"He has several smaller houses for the families that work the fields but they are out farther," the big man replied. "I don't know where they are though. Alamgir only took me to this place when we traveled to meet with Tamir."

"You know this place?" Sparrow asked.

"Not well," answered Aasim. "But the door with the guards you saw is where Tamir keeps valuable things he will trade."

"What's this Tamir like?" Sparrow wanted to know. "Always been a merchant has he?"

"Yes. His father was a great man. He built this place. When he died Tamir became the master here," said Aasim.

"So he's never been a soldier or a sailor," Barbossa put in.

"No." Aasim smiled with big, white teeth. "He's fat. He wouldn't lower himself to working with his hands. Tamir thinks about money. Money all of the time I think."

"What about the men working for him?" Sparrow asked.

"Like those working for Alamgir. They know weapons," the big Arab rubbed his nose in thought. "I think maybe they aren't as good as Alamgir's men. They don't get as much practice. Out here the bandits would not try to attack the houses. Tamir always moves his goods in a caravan. Different guards for that. He hires them when he's ready to ship things out. Then when he has sold his goods he pays them off and returns here."

"Makes sense." Barbossa was still looking at the compound. "Doesn't waste money. These bastards will know the house better than us though."

"When was the last time this place was attacked do you think, Aasim?" Sparrow asked.

"Not since Tamir became the master."

"That's good." Sparrow smiled like a fox. "Oh, that's very good."

* * *


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8: Night and Fire**

The heat of the day had passed into the cool of night. 'Uthman walked slowly in the shadows of the olive trees. He hated the nights when he must patrol here. He could feel the spirits of the dead in the shadows under the trees. Sometimes he could hear them sighing out their despair. He feared they would come for him. His mother had warned him of such things when he was a boy. His father had said it was all nonsense. Woman's superstitions. But he believed his mother. She had warned him of the nights of the sickle moon. She had said the sickle moon gave the spirits swords to strike the living. No mortal blade could ward off such a weapon. Only Allah could protect you on such a night and He would protect only the faithful. Those he despised would fall under the blades of the dead. 'Uthman shivered. As he passed into another shadow his eye was drawn to a flicker of orange in the night. He feared to look at it. It could be the eyes of a spirit. But no. Their eyes would be cold and white. Not orange. He looked.

Over the plain of sandy scrub and irrigated crops the flickering light showed about a mile off. Small flickers of flame flashed near the light. What could it mean? 'Uthman puzzled over the sight a moment. Suddenly the orange light flared up into a full blaze. There was a farmer's hut in that direction he remembered. A fire! The hut was burning. 'Uthman turned and weapons and accouterments clattering he sprinted for the main gate. As he ran he called an alarm. The gate was standing open when he reached it. The other guards greeted his cries with looks of fear.

"What is it, 'Uthman?" demanded Fayiz. "Bandits? Are they attacking?"

"I don't know!" 'Uthman gasped out, chest heaving and cold sweat on his brow. "There is a fire! A fire at the farmer's hut to the south. It could be bandits. I don't know."

Other figures moved in the torch lit courtyard behind the gate. They had heard the shouts of alarm and were coming quickly to see what was the matter.

"What is going on?" Captain Fathi asked loudly but in a calm voice. 'Uthman told him what he'd seen and pointed toward the farmer's hut. The captain looked. He judged what he saw then turned to his men that had gathered. "Saddle the horses! Get your weapons! We must ride to help the farmer. Be quick!"

The men stood startled for a moment but quickly shook it off. In confusion they scrambled for the horses and for their weapons. Men stumbled into each other and tripped over tack dropped by other men. Eventually they were all mounted and Captain Fathi lead them from the courtyard gate toward the distant farmstead. 'Uthman and Fayiz stood staring wide eyed at the horsemen galloping across the plain.

"What do you think they will find, Fayiz?" 'Uthman asked his friend.

"I don't know," Fayiz said.

'Uthman turned to his friend ready to ask another question but his eyes grew wide with fear. Fayiz frowned questioningly at 'Uthman but before he could speak the sword of a spirit clove into the side of his neck and sent him sprawling in the dirt of the road. 'Uthman screamed in terror for his life. He ran for the open gates and the safety of the courtyard. The spirits pursued. The other guard had drawn his sword at 'Uthman's scream but it was too late. A spirit stabbed the man through the heart and he too fell. 'Uthman dropped his musket and ran for the doors of the great house where another guard stood with his own musket ready. 'Uthman flailed his arms but the man wouldn't move. He wouldn't get inside the house and away from the spirits that had come. The other guard raised his musket to fire but a shot rang loud in the courtyard and the poor man fell on the steps tumbling limply to the bottom. Taking the steps in a single bound 'Uthman pounded on the iron bound doors begging the master to let him in. He begged and pleaded and even threatened but the door stayed resolutely shut. Inside he could hear scrabbling footsteps and something being dragged in front of the door. 'Uthman was on his knees nearly sobbing in fright when he felt the hard, deadly grip on his shoulder.

"The falcon," snarled a spirit. "Where is it?"

'Uthman groveled, begging to be spared. His head dropped to the stones at the feet of the spirit as tears ran down his cheeks.

* * *

"Bloody hell!" Pintel cursed. "Wha's 'e goin' on 'bout?"

"He thinks we are spirits," Aasim told Pintel. "Some of these people are very superstitious."

"Ask 'im where abouts the falcon is," Jack commanded.

* * *

"Where is the falcon?" the spirit demanded again. "Tell us and you will be spared."

The falcon? 'Uthman didn't comprehend. There were no falcons here. Not enough for them to eat really. What could the spirit want with a bird? Suddenly he felt the grip of the spirit on his throat and he began to pray.

"Where is the treasure your master brought in a few days ago?" the spirit demanded. "Is it in the strong room?"

'Uthman nodded. Of course the box had been put in the strong room. Tamir kept all of his valuables in there. 'Uthman knew that his time was over. He should never have come to the House of Tamir. He should have stayed on his father's farm and herded sheep. He felt the hand on his throat move to the back of his collar and begin dragging him across the stones of the courtyard. 'Uthman began praying again. When he was thrown to the ground he looked up to discover that he was in front of the big door to the strong room. He watched as one of the spirits smashed the lock with a pick. Couldn't the spirit have simply walked through the wall? What did the spirits want with the chest Tamir had brought? 'Uthman looked around slowly realizing that these were not spirits. How had they come from the darkness then? He saw one with snakes for hair and eyes that seemed to float in black sockets. Sorcerer! Sorcerers could do much that spirits could. Were these men sorcerers? If they were only men he should flee and get help. If they were sorcerers though he would be killed before he could get away. They'd struck down the other men with ease. What would they do to him?

The big man that had dragged him across the courtyard and the one with snakes for hair went into the strong room with a torch and began searching. He saw the man with snakes for hair pick up a handful of something from a small chest and shove it into his pocket.

* * *

"Jack," snarled Barbossa. "Do ye think we have time for that?"

"Help yourself, Hector," Jack said with a gleam of golden teeth. "In for a penny and all."

"Per'aps yer right, captain," Barbossa said smiling and stepped through the door to help with the search.

* * *

'Uthman watched as the three men rummaged through the strong room. He began to slink backwards but stopped when he heard the click of a pistol's pawl. The squat man with no hair growled something at him. 'Uthman didn't understand but he stayed stalk still looking into the muzzle of the pistol.

From inside the strong room came a cry of delight and the sound of more scrabbling. The three men came out into the courtyard again. 'Uthman turned his eyes toward them and saw they carried the chest Tamir had been so careful with. The one with snakes for hair said something to the bald one and then 'Uthman remembered no more.

* * *


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9: Unexpected Visitors**

"That went better than I'd hoped it would," Jack said once they'd reached the shallow depression where the stream ran. The party moved to the middle of the shallow water where the bottom was rocky and anyone looking for their tracks would have a hard time finding them.

"Aye," Barbossa agreed. "More profitable too."

"I thought that bugger were goin' to soil 'imself," Pintel chuckled as they made their way toward their horses. They were to meet up with Ragetti, Aaftab, and 'Umniya near the rise they'd used to spy on the homestead. If all had gone right the three would have lit the fires and ridden off well before the guards from Tamir's house got there.

"How did you know they would go like that, Captain Sparrow?" Aasim asked.

Sparrow's gold teeth flashed in a quick smile. "They get bored sittin' all the time. Guards I mean. So when something happens they all want to show how useful they are. I knew they'd leave a few behind so we went in fast and dealt with them."

"I'll say this for you, Jack," Barbossa said. "Yer clever when it comes to things like raids."

"Thank you, Hector," Jack was pleased by the unexpected compliment. Lately his first mate had been somewhat less than deferential.

They found the horses half a mile down stream and mounted up. They rode off in a wide arc heading first to the east and gradually turning north and then bearing west. Up ahead they could see a small light as if from a campfire. Jack held up his hand and drew them to a halt.

"Wha's wrong, Cap'n?" Pintel asked straining his eyes to see the fire.

"We told them not to light a fire," Barbossa answered for Jack.

"We didn't want to give away our location," Jack said. His eyes were darting about and the fingers on his upraised hand twitched nervously. It reminded Pintel of a fox scenting a hound.

* * *

'Umniya tossed another stick onto the fire and looked around into the night. She thought she should be more nervous but at the moment she was half scared and half excited. She had lived her life as the possession of one man or another and in all of those years she had told many tales of adventure. Now she was living one. It was more tiring than she had hoped but she was having fun. She'd seen men die and nearly been killed herself during the fight in the garden but still this was far more interesting than the usual spats and intrigues among the women.

Aaftab and the skinny one called Ragetti both sipped tea 'Umniya had prepared. They were looking sullen. Neither made any move to help her as she went about the fire poking the coals and generally fretting while they waited for their four companions to return. She was worried about both Hector and Aasim. She had once loved Hector and Aasim had been her most loyal bodyguard and friend for five years. She prayed that they would return. What would happen if they did not? A slight shudder ran through her. As she straightened to find her seat again the sound of horses came from the east. A few minutes later two mounted figures and two riderless horses came into the ring of firelight. Hector and the one called Pintel dismounted and made their way to the fire.

"Aaftab, I thought Jack told you no fires. No lights on a night like this," Barbossa said eyeing the pirate.

"We got cold waiting, Mr. Barbossa." Aaftab said. He did not rise as usual. Ragetti also stayed seated. "Where's the captain?"

"He fell when we got into the courtyard," Barbossa's voice held a note of sadness. "Aasim got it as we were leaving. We didn't get the box."

'Umniya stared at Barbossa with shock. "Aasim is dead?"

"He is, lass," Barbossa said gently. "I'm sorry."

"And no falcon then." Aaftab said louder than he needed to.

"No," Barbossa shook his head.

"Then my master will have to pay for it after all." said a voice from up the slope in the darkness. Barbossa's hand flashed to his blade but the sound of muskets cocking stopped him.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Barbossa," Aaftab said. He held his hands out to show the cord bound around his wrists. Ragetti did the same.

"Who is it that's addressing me?" Barbossa demanded.

"You may call me Sir Walter. My master is Sir Henry Lyle," A tall man said as he stepped into the light at the edge of the camp. His jacket was slung around his shoulders and a bandage showed on his broad chest. His left arm was in a sling. He held a large pistol in his other hand.

"So it's you we cut up on the road earlier," Barbossa said. His eyes flicked to the darkness behind the knight. "And it's yer master what made a bargain with Tamir for the falcon."

"Sir Henry has been after the falcon for more than two years now. Tamir felt sure that he could get it." Sir Walter said as he came in closer to the pirates. "I'll trouble you to drop your weapons. My men are surrounding you. I doubt that Tamir's guards will see the fire from the other side of the hill but they would certainly hear gunfire."

"We haven't got the falcon. Ye've no need to keep us," Barbossa told him. He was naturally inclined to hold onto his weapons as long as he could.

"No actual need. No," Sir Walter replied. "But there is the matter of you shooting me and killing several of my men."

"And what would ye have done to us if we hadn't surprised you?"

"Mr. Barbossa, you know we would have killed you," the knight said with a hard smile. "Dead men are so much easier to search. Drop your weapons now or I'll take my chances with Tamir's guards."

"I think I'll be hanging on to mine but I recommend ye to be droppin' yers," Barbossa drawled.

"Haurocks, fire," Sir Walter gave the order casually as though he were doing nothing more important than ordering a glass of wine. His smile stayed on his face for a moment but faded when no shot came. "Haurocks?"

"Was that 'is name?" the voice from the dark was silky smooth and playfully sinister. A gleam of gold reflected firelight. "He won't be taking anymore orders in this world, mate."

Sir Walter turned and discovered Captain Jack Sparrow standing close behind him. Out of the darkness a huge man suddenly loomed and Aasim appeared with his right hand red and glistening with blood. The big eunuch reached out with his dagger and wiped the blade clean on the knight's sleeve.

"Master Pintel, put the fire out," Jack purred. "I have some questions to ask our guest."

* * *


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10: Duty and Honor**

Sir Walter trudged through the sandy scrub land of North Africa towards the coast. He knew where he was and it would be an hour before the sun was up. His wounds pained him. He was thirsty. He had lost some blood and the beating the pirates had given him on top of all the hardship he'd been through the last few days added to his weariness. They'd stripped him of his weapons and his purse. They'd taken all of the horses and then left him. He'd gone around to each of his men but they had all been killed and then stripped too. Somehow the pirate and that huge man had crept up on them and slit their throats. The knight would not be pleased.

"This will be the night you will always remember as the night you almost caught Captain Jack Sparrow." The pirate had laughed when he'd said that. They had all been laughing. Sir Walter gritted his teeth at the memory of the shame.

Sir Walter wondered for a moment about just abandoning his duty. He could drift off into the Muslim lands and find a post among the chiefs. He knew he was a good soldier and could earn his living by his strength of arms. That was supposing they didn't just kill him on sight. He had made enough enemies here that would gladly pay to see him die. Sir Henry Lyle wasn't likely to welcome him back after such a badly botched mission. He cursed himself for having underestimated the pirates. He should have known that those two would have been vastly more capable than the usual rogues he faced in the Mediterranean. They were Pirate Lords after all. Damn it to Hell! That had to count for something. But Sir Henry had thought little of them. Sir Walter had paid the price for lack of preparation. Damn! Damn it all! Now all he had left was his duty. If he did make it back to the coast he only had dishonor to look forward to. Unless... Unless he could catch them at sea. He might still pull the bacon out of the fire. His steps quickened. He was guiding himself by the stars and knew that he might miss the camp where he'd left his two wounded men. They would wait until noon before they left for the ship. He knew he could make it. He knew he could get to the coast before the pirates did. They were leading seven horses and traveling with a woman. They would go by the road. But Sir Walter could cut across country and arrive at his ship before they got to theirs. Wherever it was.

The sun had been up for just over half an hour by the time Sir Walter staggered into the little camp on the side of the hill. The horses were hobbled just down the slope under the only real tree in sight. His two men lay in the shelter of a blanket strung up on their muskets and staked down to make a sort of lean-to. Flies buzzed around them and he could smell death in the hot air. Sir Walter staggered to them. Both men had been too badly wounded to go on the raid with him and it seemed that they had been too badly wounded to live. Walter made the sign of the cross then quickly took up a canteen. He drank slowly letting the water seep into him. After a moment he felt better. His head was no longer throbbing and he was more sure of his footing. Not wishing to burden himself with too much he took a sword and a brace of pistols along with both canteens and a wine bottle. The horses he cut loose. He took the saddle off one then mounted the other. With his head wrapped in a turban and his sling restored to something that would keep his arm from bouncing around Sir Walter headed off into the wastes. He rode across country for three hours until he found a well where he watered his animals and changed the saddle to the fresher horse. With his canteens full he made for the coast.

Well before sunset Sir Walter sighted the rocky point that was his landmark and spurred his mount into a tired gallop. There! Yes there it was. His ship lay at anchor not a hundred yards from the rocky scrabble that passed for a beach here. He had made it. Sir Walter would live to fight another day and he might still reap a revenge against the pirates that had nearly cost him everything. He would have revenge or he would die with his honor intact.

"This might be the day I will always remember as the day I DID catch Captain Jack Sparrow." Sir Walter rasped fiercely.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11: Confrontations**

"All I'm saying, Jack, is that anyone could break into yer cabin," Barbossa was leaning forward on Jack's big table.

"The door has a lock and I'm the only one with a key!" Jack shot back. He was leaning back in his chair with his feet propped up sipping from a mug of rum. "If it makes you feel better I can post a guard."

"Who could we trust in this crew?" Barbossa growled with a roll of his eyes. "And yer lock is a joke. I could pick it with my eyes closed."

"We didn't tell anyone what was in the chest," Jack knew that was a lame argument before he voiced it.

"Ye know better, Jack!" Barbossa was losing his patience. "Even the ones that didn't see it will hear about the chest if they haven't heard about it already. And not one of them will think we came back empty handed from a raid on Alamgir's house."

"That reminds me. What are you going to do with the woman?" Jack was casual about the question but hoped it would distract Hector from the box.

"'Umniya hasn't decided what she wants to do yet." Barbossa answered with a dismissive wave. "She'll stay in my cabin until she does."

"Your cabin eh?" Jack gave the older pirate a lascivious leer.

"Yer changing the subject," Barbossa countered. "If we lock it in the brig no one can get to the chest. Only ye've got a key to that. Better yet. We can give the key to Aasim."

"Why the eunuch?" Jack demanded with an offended air. "You don't trust me?"

"My life's on the line too," Barbossa asserted. "I know ye well enough to know that ye'd risk yer own life for that much gold. But I won't."

"Someone could pick that lock too," Jack sulked.

Barbossa now assumed a more reasonable tone, "It's better than yers. We could rivet a chain around the bars for extra security."

Jack considered the argument for a moment then nodded. "All right. We'll have to lash the box to the deck so that it can't be drawn to the bars. Go and see to it that staples are hammered home. I'll keep an eye on the chest until you get it done."

"Ye'll keep an eye on the chest?" Barbossa objected. He was about to go on when someone pounded on the cabin door.

"Captain!" Leech's voice sounded from the other side. "A ship is coming fast!"

Their argument interrupted the two pirates looked at each other and sprang into action. Jack tore open the door and stormed onto the deck. Barbossa joined him a moment later. Off of the port bow near the horizon was a frigate under full sail. The Pearl was tacking and the frigate was running with the wind at its back. Jack scanned the sea to all sides but the frigate was the only ship in sight.

"Our friends the knights?" Barbossa inquired.

"Who else would it be?" Jack growled. "Clear the decks for action! Secure my cabin. Get the woman below the water line."

"Aye," Barbossa turned hurriedly to his duties. The alarm was raised and the men scrambled to their posts. All sail was set and the Pearl turned with the wind. The chase was on.

"Captain, we'll be heading back toward Tripoli," Barbossa warned.

"We'll stay ahead of them until night fall," Jack was checking the compass. "Then we'll turn north and get around them."

"We could turn and fight."

Jack smiled like a fox. "Why fight when we risk nothing by running, Hector?"

Over the Mediterranean the Pearl sped. Dolphins leaped in the white foam at the bow while the men stood to their stations. As the day drew on towards night the frigate was slowly out paced. The tension that had been growing among the crew abated as night crept closer. Near sunset the lookout called from the masthead. His shout drew the attention of all on deck and their eyes turned aft to where he pointed. Above the frigate two rockets rose and burst in bright flashes. After a moment a man at the bow called. There above the horizon two more rockets rose and burst.

"Signals, captain," Barossa said calmly.

"Aye," Jack was looking through his glass. "Signals."

Jack looked forward and aft. He gaged the distances and made his decision. He checked the compass heading again and gaged the wind. It was turning. Now coming from the south by south west.

"Bring her around. Turn us north, Hector."

Barbossa gave a nod and went to the wheel. The Pearl turned north as night crept over the horizon. Jack collected Leech the bosun and gave specific orders. He had Leech repeat them to be sure that he was understood. Once the bosun was about his task Jack went to his cabin. A few moments later he reappeared on deck with the chest held firmly in both hands. He gave a look to Barbossa who nodded in understanding. Jack carried the chest below and locked it away in the brig. The Pearl sailed on into the night like a shadow among shadows and hunted by unknown numbers of enemies.

* * *


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12: The Night Chase**

Sir Walter stood on the quarter deck of the Manchester. She was a weatherly frigate built by Sir Henry Lyle with money from his own coffers. She had proven to be a good investment. More than enough pirates had succumb to her broadsides to pay for her three times over. She was fast by any measure but not so fast as the Black Pearl. Sir Walter had known that ship's reputation and had prepared for it. He had known Sparrow would turn away from him as soon as the Manchester was sighted. They had dogged the Pearl throughout the day and had gradually been outpaced though the Manchester had been under full sail and as near to the wind as he dared.

A sudden series of flashes in the distance drew Sir Walter abruptly from his thoughts. Very far off near the horizon red tongues of flame could be seen. He was sure that broadsides were being loosed and a battle was being fought on the night shrouded sea. But who was it? Certainly the Black Pearl was one of the ships. By the direction Sir Walter knew the other had to be either the Witch of Endor or the Ra. The Witch of Endor was only a brig but it was heavily armed and should be nearly a match for the galleon. The Ra was an old frigate but still at least a match for Sparrow's vessel.

"Bring us on course for those flashes, helmsman," Sir Walter ordered.

"Aye, sir," was the helmsman's reply as he turned the wheel to alter the Manchester's course. A little less than an hour later the Manchester came in sight of the wreckage. The Witch of Endor was listing badly and nearly scuppers under. Debris was scattered over the water and men had taken to the boats. The Witch was doomed.

"Sir Walter," the captain asked as he came up the ladder. "Do we heave to and take on survivors?"

"Not this night, captain."

"But, sir..."

"Damn your eyes! I said no, captain!" the knight roared. "I have my orders. Now you have yours. Proceed north. We must have no delay."

On into the night sailed the Manchester. Sir Walter resumed his vigil. How had the Pearl destroyed the Witch of Endor so quickly? There could not have been more than two broadsides. Sparrow must have surprised them. In this inky blackness any ship running without lights would be difficult to see. With the Pearl's unnatural coloring and her black sails she would be nearly a phantom.

"Captain," Sir Walter spoke over his shoulder to the master of the ship. "I want fresh men on the lookout."

The lookouts were relieved and fresh eyes scanned the night for any sign of their quarry. Soon they spotted more flashes in the distance. Four blue signal rockets blazed into the sky. As the Manchester steered towards them more flashes closer to the surface flared. A new battle raged. This time before the Manchester reached it there was a great flash and the blast could be heard faintly over the water. A flame guided them to the Ra. Her bow works were ablaze with the fire edging ever aft. Men screamed as they dove over the side to escape the hellish flames. The Manchester steered clear of the Ra as the older frigate died. The night watch all doffed their hats in solemn respect for their fellows they could not save. For an hour the Ra burned like a beacon in the dark as the Manchester sailed north.

At eight bells and the turning of the watch yet another series of rocket flashes was seen. Again the Manchester altered course. They were much closer this time. Sir Walter leaned forward locking his eyes on the distant point. Who had the Pearl run afoul of now? He knew the corvette Harasser and the sloop Fearless were to the north but neither of them stood much chance of out fighting the Black Pearl. Sporadic muzzle flashes could be seen as the Manchester made its way north. Apparently the two ships were in a running battle. Most likely the smaller vessel was maneuvering in on the Pearl to deliver a quick broadside while the Pearl batted at it like a bear trying to swat a bee. More rockets flared signaling that another of the knight's squadron had spotted the Pearl and was giving chase. All the time the Manchester was closing on the Pearl.

"She must be damaged," Sir Walter mused aloud.

"Sir?" asked the helmsman. He had not heard the knight clearly with the sound of the tack creaking under the strain of the wind.

"Nothing," replied Sir Walter. "Steady on your course."

The sky was graying with the coming dawn. Soon the Manchester would be in sight of the Black Pearl. Soon Sir Walter would have his vengeance and reclaim his honor. With three ships he surely could over master the pirates. This time he would have the advantage. The Manchester was coming up astern of the Pearl and when they turned he would rake the Pearl's aft with a broadside of merciless shot and cripple her. Then it would be only a matter of boarding her and slaughtering the crew. Dead men were, after all, much easier to search. Perhaps he would take that little smoke colored girl for himself. Let sir Henry do with the falcon as he would. Sir Walter would enjoy the girl for a time at least.

In the predawn light Sir Walter finally caught a clear glimpse of the ships as they sped northward. Their cannons flashed and the sound came across the waves like low thunder. The Pearl was smoking as if a fire had scorched her but she was still game for the fight. Sparrow had her under full sail and was tacking with the morning wind. The Fearless was indeed striking fast and hard as she maneuvered to match the Pearl. Another set of sails was just visible in the far distance. It must be the Harasser. Soon there would be nowhere for the Black Pearl and Sparrow to run.

* * *


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13: Battle at Dawn**

"Here they come again, Jack!" Barbossa called from his post by the wheel on the quarter deck.

"Right lads!" yelled Sparrow to his crew. "You know what to do. Give it to 'em hot and heavy!"

The pirates cheered lustily as they began laying their guns. The knight's sloop had made the same approach three times in a row and it was coming again at the same angle. The gunners on the Black Pearl waited patiently while their tormentor came into range. Mr. Leech sighted down his gun and smiled as the sloop fell into line. With the touch of a slow match the powder flashed and the cannon roared sending a twenty-four pound solid shot screaming across the water to slam into the bow rail of the small vessel. A cloud of splinters fanned out sending the enemy crew diving for cover. In quick succession the other guns of the Black Pearl vomited death and destruction on their enemy. The sloop continued to bear in but several of her gun ports were now empty and her foremast shrouds were torn. The sloop's speed was dropping even as they closed. Her remaining guns fired at a poor angle and the shot bounced off of the Pearl's hull to drop harmlessly into the ocean.

"Luff sail!" Shouted Jack with that wolf's grin he sometimes had in battle. "Helm, hard a starboard. Cut in behind that bastard! Larboard cannons ready for action! Fire as you bear!"

The topmen quickly let the wind out of the Pearl's sails and the mighty ship's speed dropped as she turned to cut behind her wounded prey. The crew of the sloop scrambled to adjust their rigging but there was no way they could prevent the Pearl from dealing the deadly blow. As the Pearl's fore cannon aligned with the sloop's stern they sent their shot at nearly point blank range to smash the enemy's rudder and scour its quarter deck of life. Splinters and bodies flew into the air and splashed into the sea. Shot after shot slammed home and in the dawn light another ship was left to flounder in the cruel waters of the Mediterranean.

"Captain," the lookout on the mainmast called down. "Sails coming from astern and another ship off the starboard bow."

Jack lifted his glass to his eye and peered aft at the big frigate bearing down on them. It was the one they'd spotted the evening before. The one that had herded them into this killing box. He moved to the starboard rail and again peered through his glass. A corvette with fresh white sails was maneuvering to cut them off. More grist for the mill. The Black Pearl wasn't exactly trapped but if Jack tried to out maneuver the corvette the frigate would quickly gain on them. And if he engaged the corvette he risked even more damage to his beloved ship. Damn it all!

"Full sail! Helm, I want us as close to the wind as you can sail her. It's going to be a near run thing but we'll diddle 'em again," Jack ordered.

"Jack, with the foremast sails as they are we won't be able to out run them," Barbossa warned. "Yer takin' us right into that corvette."

"Better that than letting the frigate catch us and then having to deal with the both of them," Jack's expression was grim. He was worried that the poison might have started its deadly work already. How well could anyone calculate such a thing?

"The crew's tired, Jack," Barbossa said levelly. "I'm not gain sayin' what ye've got in mind. I'm just wondering how we'll fair."

"The crew will do, Hector," Jack gave him a confidant smile. He was tired too but he was damned if these rat bastards were going to take him like some Dutch merchant on a lee shore. "Remember we still have a few surprises they aren't expecting."

"Aye," Barbossa nodded and scratched his beard in that way he had when he wasn't sure of something. "If they cooperate."

"Think about it, Hector," Jack smiled again. "If you were trying to catch the Pearl right now and were in that ship. What would you try to do?"

"But it's not me, Jack," Barbossa said. "We don't know the mind of that captain. But, I reckon ye be right to risk it this time. What have we to lose?"

So the Pearl sailed a course as close to the wind as she could while the carpenter and his mates slaved to repair the damaged foremast rigging and the topmen worked to stretch new canvas. It was a noble effort but time was against them. All too soon the corvette had overhauled them. She was sliding into a course that would bring the two ships nearly bow on. Though the corvette was smaller than the Black Pearl she mounted nearly as many guns. Also, she was fresh. Her shining sails and clean paint showed she'd recently been careened and refitted. Her crew would most likely be fit and ready for action. Jack hoped they were a new crew not yet tried in battle together. If so they might make mistakes or simply be less well coordinated than a crew with long days of drill.

"She has a pair of bow chasers there, Jack," Barbossa warned as he dropped the spyglass from his eye.

"Cobb," Jack said to his helmsman. "When I give the word I want you to cut hard a starboard. Hector, get those riggers back to their stations. Mr. Leech, have the larboard cannon primed and ready. We're going to cut hard a starboard. Be sure the guns are properly depressed."

The crew scrambled to obey the orders and Jack looked back at the frigate. It was still coming on hard. It had closed the distance to nearly long cannon range. Damn the ill luck of that broadside last night. The old frigate had spotted the Pearl just a moment too soon. She'd let fly with her rockets and loosed enough shot to wreck the spars on the foremast. Try as they might the carpenters had no spars to replace the damaged ones and they were unable to fashion the old ones into anything useful with the ship in action like this. Before Jack could finish the corvette he knew the frigate would overhaul the Pearl and for all his bluster Jack wasn't certain he could out fight two ships right now.

The carpenters had barely stowed their gear when the corvette finally came in range. She fired a pair of long nines that briefly shrouded her bowsprit in a cloud of thick smoke. The iron shot splashed to either side of the Pearl as the distance narrowed. Jack held his course until he was sure his guns would have the needed range.

"Now, Cobb!" Jack ordered and the helmsman spun the wheel. The Pearl lurched and shuddered as the rudder bit into the sea and the galleon turned east. She slowed considerably as the wind spilled from her sails but the momentum of the ship prevented her from rocking over much. As the larboard guns came to bear on the corvette they began to fire. The captain of that ship must have anticipated the maneuver though. He steered his vessel so that she stayed bow on to the broadside. While he could fire only two cannon at the Pearl this move provided the Pearl's gunners with a smaller target than they would otherwise have had. Some of the balls from the Pearl's cannon struck home but most fell harmlessly to either side of the corvette.

"Starboard cannon prepare to fire!" shouted Jack over the thunder of his guns. "Keep us hard over, Cobb. Reverse our course and let our boys have another crack at her!"

As the Black Pearl came about all of the wind spilled from her sails and Barbossa was striding the deck directing the crew to correct the rigging. Never the less Jack's plan worked. The starboard guns came on line more quickly than the corvette could alter course and this time they scored hit after deadly hit. The corvette's rigging was shot full of holes and several of her guns were struck. Men died in blasts of splinters while others went down beneath the falling yards. She was hurt but the corvette wasn't out of the fight yet. Gamely her crew returned the broadside with her lighter guns. One of the Pearl's twenty-four pounders was knocked from its carriage and a dozen men were killed or wounded. The Pearl's gunners reloaded as quickly as any crew ever could and laid another broadside into the corvette before her guns could be reloaded. More of the rigging was shot away and a hole was punched in the ship's hull. The corvette was sluggish in her turn as her captain struggled to bring her about to face the pirates with his larboard battery. The Pearl was already turning north again before the corvette could complete the maneuver.

"Damn fine sailing, Jack," called Barbossa from the main deck.

"Thank you, Hector," Jack called back absently. He was staring over the stern at the frigate that was now in range with her bow guns.

* * *


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14: Hard Maneuvers and Round Shot**

Jack dove to the deck as fragments of one of the great wrought iron stern lanterns screamed passed him. The knight's frigate had fired her bow chasers at long range and scored a glancing hit. Barbossa on the main deck barked orders to the men in the rigging to lay on as much canvas as they could. Leech was snapping orders to reload the cannon. The whole crew was animated with new strength as the threat from astern was realized.

"Leech," shouted Jack over the uproar on deck as he pulled himself back to his feet. "Make ready the surprise in my cabin. You'll only have one chance at it so be sure you do it right."

The bosun gave a quick nod and sprang to do his captain's bidding.

* * *

"Captain, prepare to turn hard a port," ordered Sir Walter. "I want that ship disabled. On your life. Do not sink her."

"Aye, sir," the captain of the Manchester resented being ordered around on his own ship. He was himself a knight of the Order though not with as much influence as Sir Walter. The orders were given and the Manchester's crew obeyed readily. They had dogged this pirate for nearly a full day and they'd all seen the wrecks it had left in its wake. Some of the crew had lost friends on those ships and all of them wanted revenge against the Pearl for the shame it had brought to their master.

* * *

"Jack," Barbossa said as he came up the ladder. "That damned corvette is coming back into action. Looks as though we gave them a drubbing but they seem willing to fight on."

"Keep an eye on her," Jack replied. "I'm more worried about the frigate catching us. Are we carrying all the sail she'll hold?"

"Aye," Barbossa growled. "As much as we can raise. That were unlucky for us last night when that damned frigate got that broadside off. At least they were trained in the French fashion though. If they'd been trained like the English they would have blasted a hole in our side as big as may be. We'd all be down with Davy Jones right now."

Jack turned unusually hard eyes on Barbossa for an instant. "Don't speak of Jones to me, Hector. Not ever."

"It's just an expression, Jack," Barbossa said raising placatory hands. "What are yer orders?"

"Be sure all hands have their personal arms ready and loaded. I expect before too long we'll be needing them."

"Aye, Jack," Barbossa nodded. "'Spect ye be right."

* * *

"Sir Walter," the Manchester's first lieutenant said from his place by the rail. "The Harasser is turning to support us."

Sir Walter looked to the starboard and saw the corvette lurching into position just aft of the Manchester. Her foremast shrouds had been shredded and much of her rigging was hanging uselessly but her captain had re-slung the mainmast shrouds and now she was maneuvering to add her guns to the fray. Sir Walter smiled. Even damaged the Harasser would force the Black Pearl to divide her attention between the two ships.

"Lieutenant," Sir Walter said. "Signal the Harasser. Well done. Attack enemy starboard side. That should vex our Captain Sparrow nicely."

As the signal was run up the mast the Manchester's bow chasers fired again. Sir Walter smiled coldly at the ship of his enemy. He would have her. He would capture the Black Pearl and burn her to the water line. He would kill Jack Sparrow and send his body to the depths. He would have his revenge.

* * *

Another round shot slammed into the stern just above the big windows of the captain's cabin. Jack was looking over the rail at the big frigate as the ball struck home. He felt the quarter deck shudder under the impact and thanked his lucky stars that it had struck solid oak rather than the frail glass. He could read the name of the frigate clearly now: Manchester. He wondered absently if it had been named after the town or some member of the Order. With a slight effort he pulled his mind back to the here and now. His stomach was troubling him. Again he wondered if the poison were already at work. What day was it? Sir Kaspar had said it would take seven days at least to kill him.

"Jack," Barbossa's voice came from the main deck. "Do ye see the corvette breaking to our starboard?"

"Course I do, Hector!" Jack snapped irritably. "I'm watching over the bloody stern rail aren't I? Stand ready down there."

For a moment Hector was livid with suppressed rage. He swallowed it though and turned back to his duties reflecting that being first mate to Jack Sparrow was tougher than he had dreamed it would be. There were times he wished he had never left the Caspian Sea. Certainly he would rather be there at this moment than here on this deck with these blasted knights after him. Barbossa rubbed his belly feeling an odd sensation. He wondered what was causing it. No time to worry about that at the moment. At least the Pearl was going north. Every minute they could out run the knights was a minute closer to their rendezvous with Sir Kaspar. Would Sir Kaspar join in the fight? If he did would he support the Pearl or throw in with the other knights?

* * *

"Hard a port!" shouted Sir Walter. The helmsman spun the wheel and sent the Manchester heeling over under full sail. Her tack sang as the sails flapped rivaling the guns in thunderous protest. As the first guns began to fire Sir Walter's triumphant smile vanished. The Black Pearl had mirrored his maneuver and turned right away from the Manchester. He watched as his shot fell into empty water. The Harasser was too far off to engage the Pearl with any accuracy though she did fire her bow chasers. Sir Walter's smile returned as he saw the windows of the Pearl's aft cabin explode. It wasn't until the wind of a passing cannon ball knocked him off his feet that he realized they had blown outward. Sparrow had concealed guns in his own cabin.

Sir Walter cradled his wounded arm as he got shakily to his feet. The eviscerated corpse of the first lieutenant lay on the deck next to him with wide, staring eyes. The headless body of the helmsman had been knocked across the quarter deck to land grotesquely against the port side rail. A large piece was missing from a now blood splatter wheel. Other bodies lay on the teak in various states of distress. Men moaned in pain. Some cried for their mothers while one said a soft prayer before falling all too silent.

The Manchester was faltering in her course without a helmsman. Sir Walter collected his wits and staggered to the half ruined wheel. He heaved with his good arm and felt the stitches in his chest pull loose again. With a grunt of pain he steadied the massive ship on course and looked for help. The captain came with several men from the main deck. Pausing only an instant at the top of the ladder the captain rushed to relieve Sir Walter at the wheel.

"Bring us back around, captain," Sir Walter wheezed. "What's our damage?"

"They only struck the quarter deck," the captain said as he struggled with the smashed wheel. "Rigging and sails are all still intact."

"That bastard somehow knew what I planned," Sir Walter staggered back to the rail to cast an evil glare at the retreating pirates. "I'll keel haul him for that."

Though he held his tongue the captain knew Sir Walter's plan had been easy enough to anticipate. What else could they have been planning? Sir Walter had been coming straight up behind the pirates. Were they supposed to do nothing? Their gunnery had been magnificent though. It was only by sheer luck that the knight hadn't been killed along with the rest of the men on the quarter deck. Perhaps that would have been better. Suddenly the captain had serious misgivings about this mission.

* * *

The Pearl's crew was screaming cheers at the top of their lungs. Captain Jack had done it again! Somehow he had out foxed the implacable enemy and had bought them at least a few more minutes of life. They were running north before the wind. Behind them the frigate and the corvette had resumed their pursuit. Even damaged the corvette was starting to gain on them again and the frigate would soon make up the lost distance. The Pearl wasn't in the clear yet.

* * *


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15: The Last Surprise**

"Damn!" Jack cursed.

"Aye, damn," Agreed Barbossa. They had both examined the Manchester through their telescopes and had seen Sir Walter rise from the deck and wrestle the wheel back under control.

"Get the carpenter back to work, Hector."

"I think, perhaps we should make the sweeps ready," Barbossa suggested.

Jack considered the big oars for a moment. "No. As tired as the men are I doubt they could keep up a rhythm long enough to make a difference. Better if we conserve our strength for a fight."

"Maybe so," Barbossa grudgingly agreed. "They won't be giving us another shot like that. It was a good plan, Jack."

"Aye," Jack glanced gratefully at his first mate. "We aren't done yet. I doubt we can stay ahead of them until nightfall. It'll come to grapples and boarding afore long. Share out a slug of rum to all hands. Be sure there's a double share for them that're in my cabin. They did well."

The rum was shared out and for an hour the Black Pearl stayed ahead of her pursers. The Harasser fired ranging shots to the jeers of the pirates until one struck home. Barbossa chivied the men back to their posts and had the bodies of those who had fallen to the round shot pitched unceremoniously over the side. It was then that hope was lost.

"Captain!"

Jack turned his gaze up to the masthead where the lookout waved frantically. "What is it?"

"Sail dead ahead, sir!"

Jack looked to where the man pointed. Due north was yet another ship. It was tacking against the wind but she was definitely heading for the three combatants. As Jack watched four blue rockets flashed into the air. Cheers could be heard coming from the knight's ships.

"Well, Jack?" Barbossa turned to his captain with a look of resolve.

"Well, Hector," Jack said pulling his hat more firmly onto his head. "It's time for our last surprise."

* * *

"Sir Walter!" The captain rushed to the knight who was propped on the aft rail with his shirt torn open. The surgeon had sewn his wound closed again but he was feeling weak from his long exertions.

"What is it, captain?" Sir Walter asked.

"A frigate," the captain was excited. "Due north and tacking against the wind. She's launched four rockets. It has to be the Monaco."

"The Monaco? She was patrolling off the coast of Spain."

"She was. Yes," the captain said. "But she was due back in port the day we left. Sir Henry must have sent her south to join us."

"Very well, captain," Sir Walter felt strength come back into his limbs. "Launch the rockets. Let her know we're still in need of assistance."

"Captain," the second lieutenant called. "Something just broke loose on the Pearl."

As they looked the pirate's mainsail collapsed sending men tumbling from the rigging. The black canvas flapped limply in the wind and the pirate ship slowed perceptibly.

"Prepare to board her, captain," Sir Walter ordered.

* * *

The Pearl had lurched as the wind escaped the mainsail and Jack had to brace himself against the rail to keep his feet. Many of the crew had stumbled on the deck but they all knew their business and quickly were ready again. Over the starboard rail Jack caught sight of the corvette flying before the wind. She was soon abeam of the Pearl and readying a broadside. With a deceptively casual movement Jack reached out and spun the wheel hard over. The massive galleon slammed with horrific force into the side of the smaller ship. The Harasser was taken completely off guard. Too late the helmsman reacted. Though he tried to steer clear of the great black hull there was no time. The Pearl ran up onto the rail of the Harasser and drove the smaller ship down into the water. The yards momentarily tangled but the pirate turned away again and pulled itself free. The Harasser's deck was swamped. Men were scattered across the teak and some had been thrown overboard. The once swift ship was driven by the wind into the oncoming waves. A massive hole had been opened in the ship's side and she took on even more water. As quickly as the crew reacted the ship was still doomed. The Harasser was going down.

"We've opened a seam, captain!" Leech reported when he came onto the quarter deck his dark face worried. "I put some men to pounding in oakum but the leak is bad."

"Very good, Mr. Leech. Time enough to worry 'bout that later," Jack was gaging the distance between the Pearl and the Manchester. "Prepare to repel boarders."

Leech's response was lost in the sudden thunder of cannon. At nearly the same instant the gunners on the Pearl and the Manchester loosed their broadsides. Iron shot smashed into the opposing ships. Sailors screamed and died as clouds of splinters and smoke shrouded their decks. In the chaos Hector Barbossa rose up to reinstate order. When the sailors of the Manchester swung over the rails they found the crew of the Black Pearl ready and waiting. With sword held high and teeth bared in a rictus snarl Barbossa lead his division into the fray. He was the Pirate Lord of the Caspian Sea and he would show these dogs what that meant. The men of the Manchester quailed before him as Barbossa struck them down. As always his blade flashed and flickered conducting a symphony of death. He had known a thousand enemies and strode untold numbers of decks awash with blood. Hector Barbossa might die this day but he would drag as many souls to Hell with him as his blade could reach.

* * *

"Onward men!" Sir Walter shouted above the clash of arms. He held his long blade up as he leaped over the Black Pearl's rail to land heavily on the deck. He was among the pirates in a moment slashing and parrying nearly deafened by the ringing of steel on steel. Briefly he caught sight of Sparrow on the quarter deck and so he turned to make his way there.

* * *

Men surged all across the deck. Pistols were fired and then used as clubs. Boarding pikes were thrust forward to come back reddened with blood. And everywhere swords swept in great cleaving arcs. Hell had burst at the seams and overflowed onto the Pearl's deck. Into this leaped Captain Jack Sparrow. His blade danced like a live thing. Parry, slash, thrust and another enemy went down. Jack drove into the flank of the boarders alone and they were forced to face him or die. Those that did face him died anyway. He found himself smiling and couldn't think why. All he knew was that he would not go out frothing at the mouth and voiding his bowels. He would fall in a fight. And not just any fight. He had destroyed four warships in less than a single day. He had outrun, out maneuvered and out foxed a whole squadron for a full night and half a day. And now on his own deck he would go down not like a mere man but like a legend. The Legendary Captain Jack Sparrow. Suddenly he knew why he was smiling.

* * *

Sir Walter snarled a challenge as he broke through the press of men to face Sparrow. His eyes were fever hot with near insane rage. Sparrow parried the knight's first attack and was hard pressed to fend off a series of rushes. The men surrounding them had backed off leaving the two leaders to fight their own personal battle. Jack swept Sir Walter's blade aside and lunged in only to have the man step lightly out of the way. Sir Walter countered with a lunge of his own but his blade passed through the space where Jack had just been. They feinted and riposted and lunged again. So evenly matched were the two men that had Sir Walter not already been injured they might have fought to a stand still. As it was the knight had lost too much blood and had pushed himself far beyond his limits. Sir Walter's movements became sluggish. His parries were slow and his ripostes fell short. It ended suddenly. Jack stepped in and bound Sir Walter's blade hard enough to drive it from the man's grip. As the knight instinctively reached for the fallen sword he felt Jack's blade come to rest on his throat.

"You're a hell of a fighter, mate. A tough man I'll grant," Jack said not unkindly to Sir Walter. "But you've lost this time."

Sir Walter sneered at the pirate. He was looking over Jack's shoulder. "I've not lost. You have."

Jack knew better than to look but there was no mistaking the roar of cannon fire. The deck thrummed with impact of solid shot from a broadside but there was something strange about it. It was as though the impact was muffled somehow. Absently Jack noticed Sir Walter's expression change from defiance to disbelief. The knight settled down to one knee and raised his chin.

"I yield."

* * *


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16: Exchanges**

The fight soon went out of the sailors from the Manchester. With their ship caught between the Black Pearl and the newcomer they were forced to submit. They had no real chance of escape. The pirates quickly disarmed those on the Pearl and men from the other ship boarded and secured the Manchester.

It was a few minutes before the man Jack and Barbossa were expecting came across to the Pearl. Sir Kaspar Sydney dressed in a fine woolen jacket and deer skin breaches strode onto the bloodied deck like a man stepping into a tailor's for a fitting. He paused briefly to gaze around the battered ship and then cast a smile at the two pirates.

"By God, sir!" Sir Kaspar said as he came up to them. "Remarkable. Truly remarkable, sir. I am pleased to find you both still alive."

"I take it you've come for the falcon, Sir Kaspar," Jack said laconically as he sheathed his sword.

"I have indeed. You were successful in your mission?" the knight's voice carried the tone it might if he were inquiring about a day's hunting.

"We've got it," Jack replied coolly. "Are you ready to give us the antidote?"

"Antidote? The falcon first, gentlemen," Sir Kaspar demanded. "Business should, after all, be conducted in a businesslike manner."

"It's in the hold," Jack told him. The captain of the Black Pearl stepped casually to Sir Kaspar's right forcing the knight to turn slightly to keep both pirates in view.

"Please send for it, Captain Sparrow," Sir Kaspar said.

"In a minute," Jack countered. "Where are the doubloons?"

"Upon my word, sir. You are a shrewd bargainer," Sir Kaspar shrugged. He turned slightly and raised a hand to signal someone on the Manchester. A small, dark, fastidious looking man came across carrying a leather sack that clinked against his leg as he walked. Sir Kaspar took it and handed it to Jack.

"Is this the down payment?" Jack asked slightly confused. "We were talking about a deal more than this."

"Yes, sir, we were... But that is genuine coin of the realm, sir." Sir Kaspar smiled disarmingly. "With an ounce of that you can buy ten ounces of talk."

"Don't be takin' us for fools, Sir Kaspar," growled Barbossa.

"I do not, sir. It is simply that there is more to be taken care of now," the knight gestured to the Manchester. "There are bribes to be paid. Men to be disposed of. More enemies to guard against. In point of fact it is all I can spare."

"You didn't say absolutely all," observed Jack.

Sir Kaspar chuckled. "Absolutely all I can spare, gentlemen. Now the falcon, if you please, Captain Sparrow."

Jack looked aside to Barbossa who shifted a little then nodded. Jack sent one of the men to fetch the chest from the brig. When the wooden box was brought up the small, fastidious man took it and held it for the knight. Sir Kaspar opened the lid and there lay the jeweled statue upon a velvet cushion. The knight ran his fingers over it in what could have been mistaken for a lover's caress. He closed the lid almost regretfully.

"And now for the antidote, Sir Kaspar," Barbossa prompted.

"Antidote? There is none," the knight blinked and swayed back a fraction as he suddenly found Hector's sword point pressed to his throat. He said very carefully, "Captain Barbossa, there is no antidote because there is no need for one. You were never poisoned."

Both pirates fastened unfriendly eyes on the fat man. Barbossa's sword did not move.

"I had no other way of guaranteeing your fidelity and cooperation, gentlemen," Sir Kaspar sounded cool and calm. His eyes did not flinch when they met those of the pirates. "Come now, gentlemen. What if things had proven to be more difficult? What if it had taken longer than ten days? What if Sir Henry's agents had gotten the falcon? It was a gamble on my part. You were not harmed by my deception."

"Not harmed?" Barbossa growled menacingly. His eyes became feral like those of a lion scenting blood. "We were damned near killed a dozen times. Our ship's been shot to hell and we lost a quarter of our crew."

Sir Kaspar's cool demeanor now was shaken. He was a man accustomed to being the one in control. The knight now realized that he'd made a terrible error coming onto the Pearl like this and setting himself in the hands of cutthroats.

"There is no service to be had by my death, sir," Sir Kaspar said evenly.

Jack smiled coldly. "We'd keep the falcon."

"You could," Sir Kaspar agreed. "But killing me would cause my officers to act as their nature dictates, sir. They would sink your ship. Captain Sparrow, I know you are a resourceful man. You've defeated at least three of Sir Henry's vessels to get to this point. But as was just pointed out by your own first officer your ship is damaged and your crew is down by a quarter of its strength. You will not prevail here."

Jack caught Barbossa's eye and made a slight gesture with his hand. The blade dropped away from the knight's throat.

Sir Kaspar touched the spot where the blade had rested. "A wise choice, captain. I suggest you get under way. There is much I must attend to. I don't think I want to have you near by while I'm doing it."

Sir Kaspar and his man returned to their ship and the Black Pearl was readied to sail. An hour later there was a low rumble as of distant thunder. Several miles aft a cloud of smoke rose above the spot where they had left the Manchester.

"He's killed them all," Sir Walter said. Jack had not told Sir Kaspar that the knight was aboard the Pearl.

"Likely, mate," Jack agreed.

"Why'd you save me and not them?" Sir Walter wanted to know.

"Couldn't save all of them," the pirate said. "But I could save you."

"Why?" the knight pressed.

"You were my prisoner. I don't like the idea of killing helpless men."

"An honorable pirate?" Sir Walter smirked.

"You can be a pirate and still be a good man," Jack turned to one of the hands. "Bootstrap, help Sir Walter down to my cabin. Get him patched up. And get him some rum."

* * *


	17. Chapter 17

**Epilogue**

"Your piss looks normal, Hector," Brother Thomas said holding up a half full glass beaker. "You say the both of you were feeling queer in the stomach?"

"Aye. We were," Hector said. They'd made a side trip to the small island to see if the monk could discover anything. Neither Jack nor Hector put much faith in Sir Kaspar's word after what they'd witnessed.

"And this feeling started nearly a day after you left Tripoli?" The monk splashed the contents of the beaker into his fire and observed it sizzling on the hearth stones.

"It did," Jack told him.

"But now that you've returned to drinking rum it's gone," Brother Thomas smiled. "I think you got a dose of bad water. Drank some from one of the wells there did you?"

"Of course. We didn't have enough rum to go 'round," Jack replied.

"I see," Brother Thomas rinsed the beaker in a bucket and set it back on the shelf. "There is a basket of apples outside the door on the wall. Take it with you and eat them for the next few days. Be sure to drink your rum straight for at least a week. I suggest you drink plenty of tea also. That should clean out your livers. I doubt that Kaspar poisoned you. As black as is his soul Kaspar is actually a man of his word. I, at least, have never known him to break it."

**Epilogue**

"Captain Sparrow,"

Jack turned to find 'Umniya. He had been sitting on a fallen tree looking out over the Mediterranean and had not heard her approach.

"I have a gift for you," The young woman reached under her veil and came out with a jeweled earring. She handed it to him. "Something to say thank you and to remember me by."

"Thank you, luv," Jack said as he took the earring. "So you're sure you want to stay here? Not much to do in this place."

"I like it," she said with a smile. "It's so green. Aasim likes it too. He thinks it will be a nice change from Tripoli."

"Aye. I reckon it will at that," Jack cast a look back toward the little village. "Keep an eye on that knight. He may be down for a time but when he's well again he might be trouble."

"I am not worried about Walter. I think he is a good man at heart," 'Umniya pulled her veil aside and lightly kissed Jack on the cheek. "Like you."

Jack smiled as he watched her walk back to the stone houses. When she reached them he looked at the earring and noticed the small gem. It was very like the one he had in his pocket. The one he'd pried from its setting on the gold statue of the falcon. It had taken several minutes to go through his loot from Tamir's treasure room to find a replacement that fit the setting and he'd wondered if Sir Kaspar would notice the small nick his knife had left. Jack took 'Umniya's gift and hooked it through one of his dreadlocks feeling very pleased with himself.

**Epilogue**

Below on the deck Jack could hear Pintel admonish Ragetti. "It'll get bet'er if ya quits rubbin' it."

"Bu' it itches!"

"Where to now, Jack?" Barbossa asked from behind him.

"I'm not sure. Where do you think, Hector?"

"I've sailed the world, Jack. Beheld its wonders you might say," Hector mused. "Everywhere from the Dardenells to the mountains of Peru. But there's no place like London."

Jack grimaced slightly. "No, there's no place like London. We should be able to pick up some fresh men there to round out the crew."

"London then?" Barbossa waited for Jack's nod then stepped to the compass and gave the heading to the helmsman. From his pocket he pulled a fresh green apple. "I think I could get used to these."

**The End**

**Author's Note:** I enjoyed writing this story. I owe much to Mr. Dashiell Hammett who wrote The Maltese Falcon. I also owe much to Mr. Sydney Greenstreet who played Kaspar Gutman in the movie of the same name. My character, Sir Kaspar Sydney, is of course based on and named for that character and the actor who portrayed him. Alas both of these men are no longer with us. If you have the opportunity to see the movie or read the book I think you will find the time well spent.

I also would like to say thank you to those of you who have reviewed. A special thanks goes out to Pirate-on-fleet-street. She stuck with me the whole way. She also asked some very tough questions that helped me to make this a better story. MsAuroura provided a good deal of critical assistance as well. At the time of this note she is in her first year of university in England and her time was preempted by her studies. I hope she will have an opportunity to finish reading this story. Last but not least is Rattraveler. He also was drawn away from the story before he could finish reading it. However, his reviews were encouraging while he was able to make them.

If anyone has any questions or observations please send me a PM. I always like to hear what people have to say about my work. Thank you all for reading.


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